Three posts in one week? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?! It's strange to actually have some spare time. Strange and wonderful, obviously.
It's Veterans Day Weekend, so we don't have school on Monday. I don't think I can adequately express in words how excited I am to not have to work in the writing center on Sunday or plan a class for Monday. You know what I'm going to do instead? Write. Well, I'll probably have to grade some student essays, too. But let's pretend like I don't have to do that, and instead focus on the writing. I'm going to try to write as much of my gothic story for Maile's class as possible. Hopefully I'll finish it.
After my last post, this week continued to be awesome. Honestly, I'm a little afraid I'll jinx it. Joe told me about a contest that Tin House is sponsoring in which you must finish an unfinished Shirley Jackson story. As if that weren't intimidating enough, the judges are Shirley Jackson's family and the so-talented-it-makes-my-brain-hurt magical realism writer Kelly Link. (If you haven't read her collection Magic for Beginners, you're missing out.) I was so pleased to have time to write on Tuesday evening that I banged out my whole submission right then. Of course, it ended up taking me until 2 a.m., but what of it? Sleep is for the weak. I'm still editing it, of course, but I must say that I'm awfully proud of how well I maintained her voice throughout the portion that I wrote. We shall see how that goes.
On Wednesday evening after Zumba, Aisha, Rosemary, Scott, Brett, and I all went to the Double Down Saloon to celebrate Brett's birthday with a little game of punk rock bingo. The phrase "punk rock bingo" is probably enough for you to imagine it correctly. It's regular bingo--just straight lines, no patterns. Probably so that people can get wasted while playing. Instead of a dauber, you use crayons. The host makes dirty jokes all evening, and you certainly don't win money. Oh, no. No money for punk rock bingo. Who would want money when you could win a themed prize package of whatever the host could find in her house/whatever people were willing to donate/whatever was cheap at the drugstore?
I was, in fact, one of the winners of punk rock bingo that evening, and I received the coveted BAG OF RANDOM SHIT. My prizes included but were not limited to: a Godzilla cupholder, antique playing cards, a Sailor Jerry shot glass, Bettie Page coasters, a pint of black zombie costume blood, some toy skeletons on a piece of twine, a juniors' size small shirt that says "nothing wrong with a little junk in the trunk" (which I was forced to put on immediately), and a porn flick. You think that's good? The birthday boy also won, and he received the Instant Pedophile Priest kit. The host dressed him up in his new priestly garb, bestowed upon him his plastic crown of thorns, and pressed a creepy skeleton-child doll to his crotch. It's really the classiest of events. Did I mention the performance by the huge, tattooed crooner who sang "Luck Be a Lady" while a hula-hooping burlesque dancer stripped?
Thursday night I had dinner at the Frog with many friends, which was great since I haven't been in such a long time. Last night we went out to Fremont Street for Aisha's birthday. A ridiculous number of people in my program have November birthdays. Aisha's not technically in the program, actually--she's a literature grad student--but we like her anyway. We went to this place called Brass Lounge which honestly reminded me of The Bronze from Buffy. It was obnoxiously overpriced, but it had a nice balcony. Had a lovely time talking with people. We then proceeded to Beauty Bar for karaoke. (Yes, Chicago--they have a Beauty Bar here, too!) Between Kayla, Mel, and Marianne's stunning rendition of "Wrecking Ball," Shaun's theatrical version of "Sweet Transvestite," and my classic performance of "Sunday Morning" (Olivia requests that I sing it every time we karaoke), we brought the house down.
I know what you're thinking. It's okay if you're jealous of my fabulous life. That's normal. Just remember that I'm the True Champion, and it's my job to be this awesome.
God, you all probably think I'm some kind of ridiculous party girl. I swear I do real work out here, too. It's simply not as entertaining to write about it. I promise that this week has also been full of grading, teaching, reading, tutoring at the writing center, and working out. I'm going to do work right now, in fact. Now that my fingers have been flying across the keyboard for a while, it's time to buckle down and write some fiction. Until next time...